i should be doing work
i'm supposed to be doing work but i logged on here and tried to catch up with everyone's posts (ana's slides are so cute ahhh).
i miss this summer and yall a lot. i know missing it won't change anything but i still do. i've been saying this year is my era of peace and quiet -- i guess that's true. here's what i've been up to:
been going to the gym every morning with ana, making my room look nice, watching succession, having disappointing frat party experiences, trying to stay on top of work. there's a harvard class i'm taking that i really like, a creative writing workshop on the art of the short story. i like that this class is taught a lot better than that one time i took a fiction workshop at mit. we read adela's house by mariana enriquez, a story about a haunted house, and the prompt for that week was to use physical space and the interaction with that space to write a story. this week, we're reading bloodchild by octavia butler (which is literally an alien mpreg story) and the prompt is to write a story about the physical body. i'm writing some crazy stuff.
i like getting back into writing. it used to be a source of stress for me for a lot of very dramatic reasons, and i pretty much gave up on it after that mit fiction workshop. but i was reading this is how you lose the time war this summer (lesbian time travel story where they send each other really poetic letters, bought it with ana at trident in may) and i started thinking about writing more as sending letters to someone across space and time, which i thought was a nice way to think about it. summer was good but there was always an undercurrent of anxiety -- this happiness is temporary, my memory is imperfect and will forget these moments, i will leave these countries and these people and it won't ever be the same. thoughts like that. but there was a line in that book, something about how poetry ossifies, like wood from a tree, how it uses the words in a language (which are like a grimy deck of cards, really) to preserve this beating, writhing tissue, this ephemeral moment, into something strong, solid, and a little bit lifeless. but solid enough to package up and send to you, or to me in the future, or someone. so it's a good thing to write, to work against time, even if it's just to say things to myself that i can't say to anyone else.
anyway. all this to say that i like taking a class that teaches me how to make things up. i'm also taking paloma's class, which is just me being delusional about my spanish level (mexico did help a lot though). i'm also taking jazz composing (my next hobby mayhaps, watch out mit festival jazz ensemble!), 9.66 (computational cog sci), and computer graphics with ana (i'm supposed to be doing pset 0 rn but it looks so atrocious). when i'm not thinking about classes, i'm thinking about how i need to apply for internships next summer and need to relearn 6.006. when i'm not doing either, i guess i'm doing things like writing this, which is really just me procrastinating by feeling melancholic (tm).
like, maybe i should meet more people, or something? but the thought makes me so exhausted and disappointed already. but yeah, these are the things i've been thinking about. hope yall are doing good!














